Noaz (Van Doren #2)

5. Briar

5

brIAR

A distant thwack makes me look up. I’m alone in the house since everyone else has gone to work. The sound is vaguely familiar, but… I can’t place it.

Thwack .

Frowning, I lean forward and look around. Something is being closed? Hit? Almost like someone is throwing their shoes across the room and it’s hitting a soft wall.

Thwack .

Closing my laptop, I set it on the table and get to my feet. Movement outside makes me look and my breath catches when I see Noaz outside. He’s standing on the side of the house with the bow in his hand.

Thwack.

Noaz lowers the bow and grabs another arrow from the quiver beside him. I knew that sound was familiar. Crossing the room, I watch Noaz. Their hair is tied back in an elastic and they’re wearing jean shorts under a loose white button-down shirt that’s open except for the top couple buttons. It flutters around them in a light breeze, showing off the tattoos that look almost random on their light skin.

Thwack .

For several minutes, I continue to stare. I don’t know why I’m so drawn to them. Surface appearance shouldn’t be the reason, but it’s not like we’ve spoken much. The day we were introduced, besides our brief greeting, no conversation passed between us.

Then again, whether we want to admit it or not, there has to be something about someone that is the reason you talk to them initially. And when we ‘eat with our eyes first,’ it makes complete sense that there needs to be at least a little surface attraction. Right?

Thwack.

Taking a breath, I decide that maybe it’s time to stop staring like a stalker. Maybe I need to not be so superficial and talk to Noaz. You know, beyond the initial ‘hello.’ I’ve never considered myself shy before, so I’m not sure why I’m so hesitant. It took me more than a week of watching from afar before I gathered my… courage?... to go over there the last time.

To go to a house I’ve been to many, many times in the past. Ridiculous. I can’t explain it.

I step outside as Noaz looses another arrow. The quiet thwack is louder now. I approach, trying to make enough noise so I don’t sneak up on them. You never want to startle someone with a weapon in their hands.

Another arrow meets the target. They’re all nestled in tight, right around the center red circle, several of them hitting inside the circle, though not dead center.

Noaz lowers the bow and faces me. They don’t need to move since their body is already pointed in my direction. The small smile on their lips is… sexy.

“Hi,” I greet and contemplate whether I need to reintroduce myself.

“Hey,” Noaz answers.

And that’s it. Wow. Once, I would have said I was good at talking to other people. I’m not sure that applies right now. Noaz’s smile climbs a little.

“Want to take a turn?” Noaz asks, holding up the bow.

“Oh,” I say, and sound like an idiot. “Sure. I’m not good at it, though.”

“Have you ever shot before?” they ask, setting the bow down and walking to the other end of the yard where the target is to retrieve the arrows.

When they return, I shrug. “I have shot once. Here, actually. Voss gave me a quick lesson, but I haven’t tried again since.”

“He taught me, too. Voss has the patience of a saint which makes him a great teacher.”

I’m hypnotized by their voice. I don’t know why. All my life I’ve been surrounded by what constitutes a masculine voice, but there’s something enthralling about Noaz’s. I could listen to them speak all day.

Noaz drops the arrows into the quiver and then offers me the bow. I take it and we trade places in the side yard. Yep, I’m not really going to pretend to know what I’m doing more than the general stands.

Taking an arrow from the quiver, I notch it on the string, then bring it up to aim. I get the general concept, but my execution sucks. I’m not even sure where the arrow goes, but I do not hear the normal thwack that usually accompanies an arrow hitting the target.

I give Noaz a bemused grin. Their answering smile makes my stomach flutter. “Can I give you some pointers?”

“Yes. Aside from taking out a window, I’m not sure that could have been worse.”

“It wasn’t too bad. You were a little high, which tends to happen when you take a breath while releasing the arrow because of the way your chest expands when you inhale.”

“Now that you say so, I remember Voss mentioning something like it.”

Noaz nods as he hands me another arrow and watches me notch it. “Have you ever shot a gun?”

Not often and not recently, but yes. I nod.

“One of the things they teach you is that you should pull the trigger at the moment when your lungs are empty. Don’t hold your breath because it can cause your body to shake. But at that natural moment when you’ve completely exhaled and before you naturally inhale again.”

I raise my arms.

“Can I adjust you a little?” Noaz asks.

I nod, and my heart begins to race, knowing their hands are going to be on me.

Their touch is light as they lift my right arm, adjusting the angle of my elbow. “Straighten your back.”

Adjusting my spine makes my entire view of the target shift. I realign and let loose the arrow. It hits the top corner with a thwacking thud and ricochets off .

“I should get points for that,” I comment.

Noaz laughs. They hand me another arrow and I notch it. This time, however, they move behind me. There’s no way they don’t feel the way my entire body is on fire being this close to them. Noaz’s hand trails down my spine, correcting my posture as it does. They bring my shoulders back, nudge my feet apart slightly, and then bring my arms up.

“Better. This should feel more natural when trying to aim.” Their voice is quiet. The tone touches my blood as it moves rapidly through my veins, pulsing in my ears. “Wait until that natural exhale moment and then release.”

Their hands remain on me as a guide. I can feel their body heat at my back. Good fucking lord, how am I still standing?

Thwack.

I nearly jump when the arrow hits the target. I don’t even remember releasing it, so I’m shocked that it’s landed in the ring just outside the center.

“I promise you, that was an accident,” I comment.

Noaz laughs quietly. Their hands are still on my waist. As we stand there, their right hand moves to my stomach.

“You’re very muscly,” Noaz says, their hand resting just above my navel. “What are these from?”

My laughter feels breathless. “Boxing. I’ve been boxing since I was a kid.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“No?” I ask, my voice catching as their hand moves up, fingers tracing my abdominal muscles through my shirt. “What did you think? ”

Noaz hums and fuck if it doesn’t send delicious shivers throughout my body. “Wrestling. Or maybe… weights. Bodybuilder.”

“Wrong kind of muscles, but I can see why you might think so.”

We’re quiet as they gently feel my stomach. A minute passes and I’m sure I’m going to drop to my knees as my blood turns to fire. I turn where I’m standing so that when I face Noaz, we’re inches apart.

“Can I take you out?” I ask. The words come out of nowhere. I’m only slightly aware I’m saying them.

I’m not expecting the almost sad look I receive in response. “You know, I may look feminine on a regular basis, but I don’t think you enjoy what I have in my pants.”

At first, their words don’t quite make sense. But when Noaz follows with an amused, “I have a snake in my pants,” a startled laugh bursts out of me.

“I… figured that out, actually. But thank you for the clarification.”

“So you know, and you still want to take me out?” Noaz asks.

“Yes.”

They study me for a long time. Staring into my eyes, searching for an answer to a question they hadn’t asked. “I’m going to volunteer this because I want to make sure there isn’t a… surprise later. I’m genderfluid. I prefer the softer clothing that the world classifies as feminine. I like how I look in them. I like how I feel when wearing them. Same goes for my long hair, which I love to style, and my makeup, which I would wager a guess I have more of than your Honey Bee.”

I smirk. “I think you two should compare notes sometime. ”

Noaz grins. “I’m also very happy with my body. I have no interest or intention of having top or bottom surgery. This is me.”

“Good,” I say. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

“You’re using gender-neutral terms pretty easily,” Noaz notes.

“I can admit I was very confused when we met. I’d seen you across the street and I automatically assumed you were a female. The ‘Uncle Noaz’ completely took me off guard.”

Noaz grins. “It’s my favorite reaction in people when my nephews introduce me as such.”

“I could tell,” I say, recalling Noaz’s grin. “I also admit that I had a moment of internal confusion when I couldn’t figure out how to refer to you, so I defaulted to ‘they,’ which I suppose I thought was the least offensive if you took one pronoun offensively over another.”

“I don’t.”

“Since we’re talking about this, which do you prefer?”

I can tell Noaz appreciates the question. The way their smile softens says so. “I go by any of them,” Noaz answers, shrugging. “I don’t generally have a preference, and the only time I get offended is when someone chooses one over another is when they use it derisively. You can tell a lot about a person by the intent behind a pronoun they choose to call another individual.”

“You use she, he, and they?”

“Yes. I suppose it depends on how I’m feeling on any particular day whether I prefer one over another; but generally speaking, I don’t have a preference.”

I lean closer. “Okay. Now back to my question. Can I take you out?”

“A date?” Noaz clarifies .

“Yes. A date.”

“And a magic wand in my pants isn’t going to bother you?”

My eyes reflexively travel down. It’s not entirely obvious that there’s something in Noaz’s pants, but then again, it’s also not always clear there’s something in mine, either. Realizing I’m being a creep again, I bring my eyes back to theirs. They’re smirking at me.

“No,” I say. “Since we’re having this conversation, I identify as straight and I’ve only been with women. But that’s because it’s who I’ve been attracted to in the past. It’s not a criterion that needs to be met.”

Once more, Noaz studies me. Seconds pass. Many long seconds, and I’m not sorry we’re standing so close. I’m not sure what scent Noaz is wearing. It doesn’t necessarily smell masculine or feminine. It just smells… intoxicating. Their eyes are beautiful, too. So clear. So dark.

“Yes,” they answer eventually, and my heart jumps into my throat. “I’d love to go out with you.”

Well, fuck me.

The door behind us closes, and I startle out of the moment. I take a step back but raise my hand to brush a strand of hair from Noaz’s face. “Tomorrow night?”

“In a hurry?” Noaz asks. I love the teasing tone in their voice.

“Tonight sounded a little presumptuous.”

I don’t miss the way their breath shakes. Maybe Noaz is feeling the same butterflies that I am.

“What’re you two doing?” one of the Van Doren sons asks as they lean over the side of the railing to look down at us, their shadow stretching across the ground at our feet .

Noaz’s eyes move up to them. “Archery. You?”

I don’t turn around. I’m far too focused on the beauty that is Noaz. At this slightly different angle, I trace the shape of their jawline. Admire the smoothness of their skin. The length of their soft neck.

“Briar drooling?”

I turn to look at the Van Doren invading the moment. It’s one of the two-thirds triplets talking. I know it’s not Imry because the other triplet is leaning on the railing, shoulder pressed against the first.

“Yes,” I answer. “Your uncle is breathtakingly beautiful.”

Both brothers give me identical smiles. Big, beaming grins.

“He is,” one says. “I’m glad you recognize that.”

“It’s impossible to miss,” I agree.

They’re still grinning at me. Matching smiles that are almost eerily identical. “Come on,” the one on the right says, pulling the other’s arm. “Let’s leave them to their privacy.”

“We’ll keep everyone inside,” the second calls as they head back toward the door.

When the door closes, I turn around again to face Noaz. There’s a light flush on their cheeks as they look at me with an expression I can’t quite name.

“You’re sweet,” Noaz says quietly.

I raise one shoulder and let it fall again. “Thank you for agreeing. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Noaz.”

Noaz’s eyes glisten. His expression softens again. That kind of look in movies when you can see they’re feeling all sorts of feels .

Taking a step closer again, I close the distance until we’re once more just inches apart, then brush my thumb against their cheek. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I first saw you, and I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I was uncomfortable or startled by your appearance when we met. I promise you, I don’t care what’s in your pants. You captured my attention the moment you existed in my world.”

Noaz inhales deeply. “Don’t disappoint me,” they whisper. “Please.”

My heart nearly stops. I can only imagine how many times they’ve been disappointed. I get it. There’s so much in the world to be disappointed about. Especially when you don’t fit into its mold. I know first-hand from second-hand viewing as I watched the horror that unfolded in my friends’ lives.

I’ve always considered myself a better person than that. Now it’s time to prove I am who I claim to be. I don’t need to prove it to myself. I need to prove it to this person who has become the center of my focus that not everyone will disappoint them.

Not everyone will hurt them.

I won’t be that person.

“I promise,” I murmur, brushing their cheek with my thumb. So soft.

The urge to kiss Noaz is strong, but I resist because I don’t want to move too quickly. I don’t want them to read it as me making a point that I’m not concerned about what’s in their pants. First, I want to give Noaz a date they’ll remember for the rest of their life.

A life that I hope maybe I’ll get to be a part of. Not that I’m getting ahead of myself.